


Venus in Repose

by Acidus



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, lots of words about tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acidus/pseuds/Acidus
Summary: Only the strongest of souls and steeled of heart can prepare for that most grueling of trials: making tea for the Archbishop.





	Venus in Repose

“Rhea, would you like to take tea with me sometime?”

Byleth had asked Rhea suddenly one day, at the end of another training session. Though Seteth had grudgingly accepted Byleth’s position as a lecturer to the students of the Black Eagles house, his eye had twitched a little after she commented that she didn’t know anything of the Church or its tenets. Afterwards, Flayn had suggested that she familiarise herself with the teachings of the Goddess, and what better authority on the subject than the Archbishop herself?

Rhea, on her part, was more than willing to instruct her in matters of faith. Every Sunday, the two of them gathered in her personal quarters, which opened up to a spacious terrace overlooking the entrance to the monastery. It was an excellent place to practice casting white magic, and the older woman had expressed a preference for a more private space, to which Byleth had no particular reason to disagree.

Rhea paused, a beat too hesitant to be forthcoming, and Byleth interjected. “I often have tea with the students, to get to know them better. If that is too much--”

“No!” Rhea surprised Byleth and herself with the vehemence of her answer. “No,” the archbishop repeats, more calmly this time, smoothing flat her robes. She strode over to the balustrade, gazing downwards at the knights on the bridge. “I would be happy to accept your invitation. It simply is that…” she trailed off.

Byleth said nothing, walking to her side by the railing and watching her quietly.

“...I seldom partake of hot beverages.” Rhea admitted, her cheeks flushing faintly. Such triviality was perhaps unbecoming of her, but she felt like she could trust Byleth with that information. “I do not mean any offense to you, dear professor, but they are not to my preference. I have a fairly sensitive palate, so my tolerance of hot beverages extends only to those I particularly enjoy, and even then I take them sparingly.” 

Most people would have just taken Rhea’s answer as a polite declination, but Byleth was skilled at reading others. It was an invaluable skill on the battlefield for predicting her opponents’ movements. This dance of social nuances, with its blocks and parries, could be thought of as its own kind of battle. She always had a good sense of when to draw back, cover her openings - and when to push. 

“I see.” Byleth nodded. “Then I will prepare something cold. It has been rather warm out these few weeks, so I think it would be a perfect time to have something to cool off from the heat. Is there any time you would be available?”

By the slight surprise on the archbishop’s face, she could guess that she had struck true. “I… believe I could make time for leisure next week."

"An hour after the morning sermon then, at your table?" The professor suggested, angling her head at the nearby patio table. "I do need time to prepare."

"That is an acceptable time." Rhea agreed. After a moment, she gave her a wan smile. "I look forward to it."

* * *

  
It turned out that inviting the archbishop for teatime involved a lot more problem solving than she initially realised.

First, Byleth didn’t know what Rhea would like, or that she would even like tea. When she said she didn’t like hot beverages, did she mean she didn’t like tea and coffee, which were typically served hot, or anything that was served hot at all?

Her answer came, surprisingly, by the way of Seteth. As Rhea's castellan, he was responsible for overseeing the monastery’s day to day activities, including the final approval on purchases of goods and services from merchants outside the region. On Tuesday, Byleth had came to the advisory room to inform him of a planned excursion to the surrounding mountains in two weeks' time. As she approached the doorway, she could hear conversation between him and another man. Judging by the conversation, it seemed to be the tail end of some negotiation, with Seteth confirming when the merchant would be paid. 

Byleth started walking away, intending to while away time in the library or with her colleagues, but it seemed that she had been spotted. "Professor Byleth. Our business here will be concluded shortly, so please, stay."

She shrugged and took one of the spare seats by the wall. A few minutes later, the merchant strode out, looking rather pale. Seteth gave a soft sigh once he was out of earshot. "My apologies, Professor. That did take slightly longer than I had anticipated. Is there anything you need?"

Byleth nodded, placing the folded sheet of paper she had been carrying on his desk. "I will be supervising a training mission for the Black Eagles two weeks from now, to the outskirts of the Oghma Mountains. Church scouts reported that Demonic Beasts have been spotted in the area recently, and it would be wise to eliminate them before they threaten the nearby village."

Seteth read the paperwork, and seemed satisfied. "Very well. Your class is approved for the mission." After a few moments and Byleth had still not moved, he arched an eyebrow. "...Is there something else you need, professor?"

"That merchant." Byleth started. "What was that about?"

"A pricing dispute, nothing more.” Seteth resumed working on the documents on his desk. “In light of the surge in Demonic Beast activity as of late, he took the opportunity to bargain for a higher price for his wares. I simply reminded him that neither the Goddess, nor Saint Seiros, look favourably upon those who attempt to take advantage of her faithful."

A benediction, or a veiled threat? Byleth couldn’t tell. It was probably both. 

A pause. “That, and we could easily have engaged another merchant for such deliveries. I am sure there are many in Enbarr who would be eager to supply the Church with tea.”

Now that drew her interest, in light of recent events. "For the rank and file, I take it. And does the archbishop enjoy tea?"

Seteth narrowed his eyes. His quill slowed. "And how would this information possibly be relevant?"

Unslung accusations hung in the air, like arrows frozen in motion, but the easiest way to disarm him would be with honesty, Byleth thought. "I am hosting tea for the archbishop this weekend. I do not know what her taste in drinks are, and I thought that you might have some insight."

As she thought, he was caught flatfooted. "I… well, you are correct.” He seemed to wrestle internally with himself for a moment, then continued. “Rhea traditionally prefers angelica and chamomile tea. She also enjoys crescent-moon tea, every now and then.” 

Three teas with light, delicate flavours, two of them that helped to calm one’s sleep. Perhaps she was reading too much into it.

* * *

  
Now that Byleth knew what teas Rhea enjoyed, the next step was its method of preparation. 

Her very first idea was simply to cool a cup of tea, but even that posed complications. Serving a cup of tea left cold would be disrespectful even to someone that wasn’t the leader of the dominant religious institution of the continent - not to mention it would taste awful. From her previous experience cooking with the students in the kitchens, she knew there was an ice house in the monastery, but that might not work too. Many of the teas had flavour profiles that would be ruined by the addition of ice. Even the supposedly safe choice of teas were not safe: the delicate floral and citrus body of a Hresvelg Blend would be too diluted, while a Leicester Cortania would become too astringent and drown out its notes of spice and cinnamon.

Her third line of thought involved a consultation with Hanneman, and on Wednesday, she managed to finally have a conversation with her fellow professor in his office. Well, she was listening, and Hanneman was enthusiastically expounding upon Crests.

"Hanneman," Taking advantage of the temporary lull between topics, Byleth quickly struck. “can I pick your brain on something magic-related?”

He gave her a piteous look. “Were we not already on that subject?”

_Oops._ "A more immediate application, I mean.” Byleth carefully parried. “Suppose for the sake of argument, I could not use ice cubes to cool a drink. Would the use of an ice spell work?"

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Theoretically, yes. With fine enough control, one is able to create an endothermic effect on a small enough scale for, say, cooling a pot of tea, or coffee. However, such applications have no practical use. Such fine control on a scale as small as this requires the skill and concentration of a master mage. Any less, and at best you would freeze the entire container solid. At worst, you would turn it into a point-blank, ice-based explosive.” 

Though she was familiar enough with the basics of magic, a master spellcaster she wasn’t, and she wasn't going to involve her students in possibly creating an improvised explosive. "That is unfortunate. Thank you, Hanneman."

"Forgive my presumption, but if you were looking to make a cold cup of tea, why not use a cold brewing method?" 

Byleth blinked. This was the first time she had ever heard of the term. "Cold brewing?"

"Yes, it is a relatively uncommon method of brewing tea, mostly because its preparation takes such a long time. Though I am not very familiar with the exact details, I believe Lord von Aegir and Lord Gloucester are tea cognoscenti. They may prove more useful in that area than I."

Byleth nodded. "I will seek them out, then." _ When one opening closes_, Jeralt had once told her, _ the target opens up another_.

* * *

  
It was foolish that she took this long to recall she had a tea connoisseur in her own house, but at times like these, she was like a blinkered horse. Sothis had said so as much.

Ferdinand, on his part, hadn’t been _ too _ affronted when she finally asked him about tea preparation. Whether it was because she had forgotten about him, or that it had taken her this long to actually ask him, he had graciously ignored it in favour of straightforward instruction. After classes on Friday, the two of them stood in the kitchens, taking advantage of the post-dinner lull to occupy one of the stations.

There surely was tea in storage, but Ferdinand had opted to bring his own supply. He lifted the bottle he had prepared earlier in the day, the motion producing eddies of loose tea leaves in the pale golden liquid.

"The best teas to use for cold brewing are white teas, like immaculates. It is perfectly fine to use green or black tea, of course, but white teas see the biggest benefits. No bitterness or astringency like you would have with hot brews." He poured them both a cup, straining out the leaves. Taking a sip, Byleth marvelled at the taste. The tea was sweeter and smoother than the typical immaculate, yet it still retained its light, floral body and aroma. Before long, she realised she had emptied her teacup.

“That’s a great cup.” She said, and Ferdinand beamed. “Why isn’t this more common?”

“Well, it takes far longer to prepare an equivalent amount. With hot water, a pot of tea is ready in three to five minutes. It takes four to six hours for cold brews to fully steep, depending if you are using lukewarm or ice water. It also requires much more tea leaves for the same amount of flavour, and if you use high quality teas, like this orange pekoe immaculate, it can quickly be costly.”

“A method for the idle rich, then?” Byleth jabbed in jest.

“Well... I would not put it that way.” Ferdinand adjusted his collar uncomfortably. “But yes, it is true that cold brewing is present mostly in specialty teahouses. Commoners typically drink strong breakfast teas, for alertness and wakefulness. Cold brewing just does not preserve those properties.”

“What about herbal teas, like chamomile?”

“Ah, there are no issues with tisanes. However, they take longer to steep in general, so if you were using them in a cold brew, you would need twelve hours to fourteen hours. Best to leave it to steep overnight.”

Mercenaries gossiped as much as housewives, and her lack of emotion was almost legendary in those circles. _ The Ashen Demon_, she had been called. She had never shown fear, or rage, or anything other than serenity, even as blood dripped down her face and gathered underneath her fingernails. Sometimes she had pressed her hand to her chest, where she felt nothing, and wondered if her moniker was not an accurate description of her inhumanity.

But just then, as she realised she had little over a day until she had to attend her tea party with the Archbishop, and she _ still _ didn’t have any tea... sweat began to bead at the back of her neck. 

* * *

  
The morning tea with Rhea was tomorrow, and Byleth had a half-day of classes, so she had at best two tries to get it right. She had never skipped morning training sessions before, but that was before she had been this pressed for time. Edelgard would be disappointed, but her father and the other mercenaries in the band were also excellent fighters. There was nothing she would miss out on.

_ Why _ am _ I doing all this? _ Byleth asked herself, as she filled two jars with sprigs of angelica, chamomile, and spring water. _ I have certainly gone out of my way for Rhea… and what for? I could have proposed anything else. A walk in the gardens, or some time together in the cathedral. _

_ But those occasions could so easily be interrupted, _ came another thought. _ Any knight or clergy or student could request her presence, and she would not, could not refuse. There were so many other issues more important that required the archbishop’s attention than mere leisure, after all. _

Her thoughts suddenly drifted to a girl she had met during her time as a mercenary. It was obvious that she had joined out of desperation: though she had some training, she was an obvious greenhorn. She ate and sat by the fire alone. A terrible solitude. 

She didn’t care, back then. Just another mercenary she never spoke to and never fought with. The next time Byleth thought of the girl again, it was because she had finally noticed her absence. She had died weeks ago.

The archbishop - Rhea - felt the same way, her demeanor always slightly tinged with solemnity and loneliness. Someone of her status had few peers, of course, but it seemed to be stem deeper than that. When she thought of Rhea, Byleth couldn’t quite shake the feeling of when she had learnt the girl had died, alone and buried in an unmarked grave.

_ I want her to enjoy herself. Talk about the meaningless and indulge in frivolity. An hour or two removed from her burdens and her role. _

A strange feeling squeezed her chest, and she suddenly realised._ I want Rhea to be happy. _

What did that _ mean? _Byleth wasn’t sure. For now, she just had to make sure the tea party wasn’t a disaster. 

* * *

  
By the time Rhea had arrived at the terrace, Byleth had put the finishing touches onto the table. The tea had thankfully came out delicious, and she had broken one of her own rules, enlisting Mercedes and Annette’s aid in baking sweets for the tea. They had worked late into the evening, but the fruit of their labours now decorated the three-tiered serving tray. Dorothea had given her some advice on what to use for decorating the table. In return, Byleth had promised to fill them in on the details of the party later. 

“Good morning, Rhea.” She nodded, pulling out a chair for the archbishop. 

“Good morning, professor.” Rhea gracefully seated herself, looking at the table with curiosity and delight. “I must say, I was quite expectant all week on what you had planned. I see that my hopes were not misplaced."

“I kept myself busy.” Byleth replied simply. Sitting at the opposite end of the table, she poured them both a cup of chamomile. Rhea took a sip, and smiled.

“My, what a lovely tea." Rhea drank deeper, and Byleth couldn't help but notice her neck, her throat bobbing up and down. Pale, flawless skin, blanketed by long, flowing verdant locks. For a moment, she wondered what it would be like to press her lips against it.

Her eyes darted down towards her own cup. _ Eyes to yourself, Eisner. _

“One of my students, von Aegir, is a tea expert. He taught me a method of brewing tea with cold water that retains its fragrance and flavour.”

“Is that so?” Rhea’s eyes flutter. “Please pass on my gratitude to Lord von Aegir. But more importantly, I thank _ you_, professor. From what I hear, you have expended a not-insignificant amount of time and effort into accommodating my preferences. I have not had an opportunity to stretch my wings like this in a long time, and doing so in your company is a treat.”

Her mouth twitched upwards in a sudden muscle spasm, but it only caused Rhea to give her a radiant smile. _ Ah_, Byleth realised. _ So that’s what it feels like_. 

“No, I don’t mind.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “To be able to spend time with you is my own reward.” 

Rhea sharply inhaled, and her cheeks flushed. “Y-you are such a sweet child, to say such kind words.” Taking another swig of tea, she quickly changed the topic to the sweets that Byleth had helped bake. They were delicious, no doubt, and she was happy enough to talk about Mercedes and Annette and the rest of the class, but for the rest of the tea, Byleth couldn’t help but think about her response that would now go unsaid.

_ But I had meant it, though.  
_

Once the sun was high in the sky, and only dregs were left in their cups, Rhea was the first to rise from the table. "As much as I wish otherwise, I must return to my duties." She looked truly sorry. "I had a wonderful time, professor." 

Byleth nodded. "It was my pleasure to host you for tea, Rhea." Sothis yelled in her ear, but that went ignored. It would not be prudent. "Let me know when you would like to have tea again." 

_You're backing down _now?_! Ugh, you - cretin!_

Sothis wasn't the one who would have to live with the consequences of laying hands on the archbishop, as appealing as the idea of holding her hand was. Byleth watched her leave, and made a mental note to deepen her knowledge of hand-to-hand combat.

**Author's Note:**

> somewhere down the line the story ran away from me and became completely pointless but i started it and by god i was going to finish it


End file.
